


Hold Out Your Hand

by 1f_this_be_madness



Series: Beyond the Rhapsody [10]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Ben is such a kind and gentle soul who deserves love and validation, Best Friends, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Epic Friendship, Gen, Gwilym Lee Is a Sweetheart, Insecurity, One Shot, Platonic Kissing, Platonic Relationships, Snuggly Gwil is back!, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 00:58:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1f_this_be_madness/pseuds/1f_this_be_madness
Summary: "Beauty is truth, truth beauty, —that is all / Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know”. - John Keats, Ode to a Grecian UrnBen wonders sometimes if he's more than his face and form, or less, or nothing. Modelling and acting, different beasts entirely, contain some similar elements, in his case being the importance ascribed to physical attractiveness. At times that is rather wearing, but luckily he has people who know what to say.(Or, Ben is exhausted after an extensive modelling gig and Gwil tells him a few truths about his beauty.)





	Hold Out Your Hand

Ben settles beside Gwil on the couch. Collapses, really; it has been a long week.

A long fortnight, if he is being honest--poked, prodded, groomed and told to face a certain way, look or showcase a particular manner, wear a specific facial expression.

He has been told "Oh, good, that's gorgeous" and "give us a smile like you've got a secret" and "be sexy" so many times that those words have lost all meaning, and Ben isn't positive there is anything else left of him but looks. Has there ever been aught else, really? So many of the responses to his presence in Bohemian Rhapsody were and are appearance related. He doesn't mind; it is flattering--humbling, really--but can go too far. Like when that blasted reporter said Roger Taylor was a smart man getting someone better looking than him to play him (an outright falsehood, Ben believes, incarnate from photographic evidence--has no one SEEN Rog in the seventies? His fluffy hair alone was prettier than Ben's ever been, come on people!)

Ben sighs now, glancing at Gwil, who has automatically wrapped a long arm round him and pulled his shorter, muscular mate against his side, where Ben sags gratefully. Good ol' Gwilym Lee, snuggliest of snugglers and a damn good mate. Handsome in his own right, to boot, but he doesn't attract the salivation factor nearly so much as does Ben. Pity, though it could also be a blessing in disguise. Gwil has such beautiful bright blue eyes and smooth fair skin, pale as the summer moon. That long straight aquiline nose and his high sharp cheekbones set off by dark, dark hair...and all of that made lovelier because of how kind and smart, considerate and gentle Gwil is. He is a top human being, and Ben feels incredibly lucky to have him as a friend. 

"Oi, Gwil," Ben vocalises softly, and Gwil turns to him, face open, eyes sparking and wide behind those wire-rims he sometimes wears. 

"Yes, Ben?" He asks, and Ben swallows. He cannot say what he wants, all he wants to.

And so, "You look right smart in those glasses, mate. That is most certainly a good look."

Gwilym laughs and ducks his head, flushing a bit at the sincerity of Ben's compliment. "Ah, cheers, but I'm sure you'd look twice as dashing, Ben."

Ben smacks his lips. "Well let's see," he teases, holding out his hand. Gwil cocks his head but then grins and removes his glasses obligingly, sliding them carefully onto Ben's nose and hooking the ends around his ears. Ben blinks and looks at Gwil, who has seemingly frozen; his breathing has grown shallow. "Yup, I knew it," Ben intones. "Not for me, I look like nothing but a model trying to appear intelligent, eh?" He tries to smile and peddle his words off as a joke, attempting to give the glasses back, but Gwil stops him.

"Oh, no, Ben," he breathes. "Mate, you're stunning. Truly. And it's not just because of your looks, either. You are a beautiful man inside and out. I mean, your knowledge of rock and roll ALONE--" the tall man whistles. "It's damn impressive, Ben."

"Nah," Ben shakes his head and bows it forward, several pieces of blond hair falling over his forehead as he ducks away. "'S not that amazing, really. I'm just a nerd."

Gwilym rolls his eyes. "A nerd who remembers the exact album that any rock song from the sixties on is part of. You love it all, and know so much, and that's a wondrous thing. As is the extent of your humility," he adds as Ben pulls a face. "You're so uncomfortable with effusive praise, but it's deserved, Ben. And I haven't even gotten started on how kind you are."

"Stop," Ben practically whispers, blushing now. 

"I won't," declares Gwil, bending his face toward Ben's. "Not until you believe the things I'm saying, or at the very least accept them, Ben." Lifting his long hands, Gwilym Lee cups his friend's full, soft cheeks. "You're incredibly handsome, yes. But do you know what I think your best physical feature is?"

"... What?" Ben asks, eyes flickering up and down as his cheeks feel hot underneath Gwil's cool fingers. He expects Gwil to say his cheeks, or his lips, or his eyes. Could even comment on his physique, maybe. Ben closes his eyes, feels his stomach jump, lurch, twist, and then a light touch of lips brushes over the bridge of his nose to a bulge on the right side-- the place he'd broken his nose playing rugby in school. It never healed straight, it's the ugliest feature of his face.

But Gwilym says "This," in a whisper as Ben's lashes flutter after Gwil shifts his lips back. "Your nose makes you look interesting, and shows that you are strong. Because you ARE strong, Ben. It's the truth."

"Yeah, strong because of all the weight I can bench-press," Ben quips. 

Gwil smiles, even as his eyes remain trained on Ben's seriously. Begging with those eyes for his friend to understand that the strength Gwil speaks of isn't physical. "That too, I suppose." Stroking Ben's soft skin with gentle thumbs, he leans in and kisses Ben on the nose for a longer moment this time, making Ben whimper. "I mean it," mutters Gwil. "I'm in love with your crooked nose, Benjamin Hardy. Along with all those other things about you."

Ben chokes on words, his eyes filling with tears as he gulps and swallows, hand shooting up and fingers grasping Gwil's left wrist. "That--god, Gwil," he croaks out, shuddering. "Thank you." That means so very much to hear, especially in Ben's current state. How does this man always know the perfect words to say? Ben feels his tears spilling over as he says again "Thank you so much."

"Of course," his friend murmurs and wraps those lengthy, lovely and loving arms around him, pulling Ben into his chest and rocking a bit. Showcasing all of his strength and support and love, and Ben is more grateful for his friendship with Gwilym Lee, including the wonderful sentiments he expresses, than words could ever say.

**Author's Note:**

> Ben and Gwil's friendship means a lot to me, and I think Gwil might be a bit like Brian in that the things he finds most beautiful are the smallest imperfections in perfect faces, because those things show character. 
> 
> I also have trouble with the way Ben, as well as other physically attractive people (esp. those with celebrity status), are viewed by society sometimes. They deserve to be seen and appreciated for far more than JUST their physical beauty, and that's the truth. Thus I wrote this.
> 
> Comments appreciated <3


End file.
